


ʆimplanted

by sonshineandshowers



Series: #plantlife [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Dreams, Family, Humor, No actual sex, Other, Plantaphilia, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers
Summary: Gil gave Malcolm a gift that scatter-grabbed all over Malcolm's apartment and reached into every aspect of his life.Malcolm's relationship with a plant - a comedy. :)
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Plant
Series: #plantlife [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868740
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	ʆimplanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HoneyMayBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyMayBee/gifts).



> one joke turned into another joke about shipping malcolm with a plant. it's meant as a joke, i promise.

Gil gave Malcolm a spider plant. A gift. _Right_. Now it scatter-grabbed all over his apartment. Took over every nook and cranny it could fit into.

“Bring you some life,” Gil said. “Brighten up the loft.”

He had Sunshine. He didn’t need green. It made him envious of all the space it now had and he didn’t.

“They’re babies,” Gil clarified. “You can plant them too.”

He didn’t want children. Didn’t want a whole fuckin’ family of striped green and white marching to take over the world.

Never again.

* * *

A tickle ran from Malcolm’s foot, up the knob of his ankle, along the curve of his calf, over his thigh, resting on his hip. Rubbed back and forth a few times, cradling the dip up to his ribs. Climbed over his arm and caressed up to his neck. Wrapped around to a kiss, languidly brushing leaf and lips.

“Good morning,” Malcolm said, kissing them again.

“Morning,” they curled up under his chin, other tendrils winding around his ribs.

“You gonna try to get some sun today?” Malcolm asked, running over their brushed patterns.

“Only if you do. You’re looking mighty pale,” they tickled under his ribs.

“Hey, Syd,” he complained, giggling at the tickle assault. “Mercy, _mercy!_ “ he called, and they stilled, soothing his side with gentle strokes instead.

Syd kissed his shoulder and nuzzled below his ear as his breathing slowed. “You need nourishment, Stix. Red vines aren’t gonna cut it.”

“They’re Twizzlers,” Malcolm corrected.

“Green vines should be the only color going into you.” Syd quirked a leaf at him, teasingly bopping the middle of his forehead.

“Do you have something planned?” he returned cheekily, wiggling his hips.

“You eating breakfast.” They pulled away, slinking toward the kitchen. “Then maybe I’ll come join you on the roof.”

“In the lounger?” Malcolm’s eyes grew to saucers.

“Might even take a dip.”

He flicked off his cuffs and tumbled out of bed to get to the shower, a sudden renewed interest in breakfast.

* * *

A chorus waited for Malcolm at the breakfast bar when he emerged.

“Daddy, I want 10-10-10.”

“Dad, I want 6-6-18.”

“But, _Daddy_ , I want 5-10-5.”

“C’mon kids, Dad’ll prepare the same meal for all of you,” Syd tried to wrangle them, but they wouldn’t be fenced.

“With a little extra sploosh for you.” Malcolm added to one pot with a grin. “A dollop for you.” He hit the next with a wink. “And a dash for you.” He poured a bit into the last and buzzed his lips.

“But I wanted a splash,” their youngest pouted at him.

He gave the pout right back with an extra helping of puppy dog eyes and tipped in a little more.

“Too much, daddy,” they giggled, and he tickled their leaves.

“Legs, sit down.” Syd pulled up their middle child from the floor.

Their oldest looked on, twirling a leaf to get a curled edge.

“Finish up and get ready for school,” Syd instructed. “Don’t encourage them,” they scolded, wrapping around Malcolm’s wrist as he was about to make another face over one of their pots.

“Yes, Plant,” Malcolm moped, drinking his coffee.

“Where’s yours, Daddy?” their middle child pointed a leaf at him.

“Where is yours?” Syd reminded as he shuffled in the freezer for waffles to put into the toaster. That would count, right? “Pick a fruit, too.”

He scanned the bowl and selected an apricot, rinsing it in the sink and biting into it while he waited for the rest.

“You’re silly, Daddy. You’re eating orange.” Their youngest laughed.

“This is good for Daddy.” Malcolm took another bite. “That is good for you.”

They finished their fertilizer and scrambled out the door. “Stay together,” Syd called behind them, puffballs of leaves flying away.

Breakfast was _exhausting_.

“Head on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Syd guided, clearing the saucers to the sink. “Take those.” They pointed at the toaster.

“Thanks, honey.“

* * *

Syd curled in next to Malcolm on the lounger, content to soak up all the sun and shelter some of his skin from the rays. They shifted as time passed, keeping his skin from turning lobster. “So you don’t end up looking like one of your red vines,” they teased.

“Umhm,” he let the comment pass, her hold too comfortable to argue the difference.

“You fallin’ asleep on me?” They brushed his hair and twined under the hem of his t-shirt.

“No tickles,” he murmured, a small smile gracing his face.

“Wasn’t thinking that,” they whispered into his ear, a leaf trailing through his hair from his navel to his belt, slipping under his waistband.

“ _Syd_ ,” he warned where their touch was going to take things. His hand ran across his stomach to press against her leaf. “Mmm,” a small moan escaped his lips.

Warmth from his middle made him stretch out, a distant metallic clinking reaching his ears.

Malcolm opened his eyes to the perk of a burgeoning erection gracing his pants. His sheets twisted in his legs, his mind fogged with tendrils of a confusing dream. The spider plant reached at him from across the room, its many babies in tow. He shivered at the prospect.

“ _No_ ,” he told it firmly like it could understand his commands and shy away.

It had to go.

He whipped his cuffs off and walked it to the door, setting it on the entry table.

 _Now_.

He whisked away for a cold, _cold_ shower.

* * *

Malcolm told Gil, “Come quickly, _now_.”

When Gil arrived in a panic, Malcolm realized he was probably expecting a near death experience. Whoops.

“Take it back. I don’t care _what_ you do with it, it’s gotta go,” Malcolm pointed at the plant.

Gil laughed, relief gracing his face. “What’d it do, bite you or something? Cut you with a leaf?”

Malcolm shoved the plant into Gil’s arms, all its tendrils of babies going with it. “We will not speak of this. _Ever_ again.”

Gil broke into full guffaw, Malcolm’s reaction to another living thing in his apartment full sketch comedy. Gil would have to film this for the kid’s mother. This was _legendary_. Even funnier than when he was high in the hospital.

Gil snapped a photo of Malcolm’s face, Malcolm’s eyes widening in horror. “You did not just do that.” Malcolm reached for the phone.

Gil swapped to a note recording app and started hopping down the stairs, Malcolm chasing after him.

“Two-party consent!” Malcolm yelled.

“New York is one-party,” Gil reminded what they both knew. Malcolm wasn’t getting out that easily.

“Give me that,” Malcolm begged, trying to reach around him.

“Take the plant back,” Gil goaded, lifting it higher in the air.

“I can’t have Syd,” Malcolm said, his voice dipping quieter.

“Syd? You named it?” Gil’s voice increased in volume.

“Them,” Malcolm corrected.

Gil only laughed more. “Your mother’s — “ Gil stopped talking, his laughter taking over his breath. “ — She’s gonna laugh so hard.”

“I’m glad you’re all getting a laugh at my expense,” Malcolm griped, Gil getting through the outside door in front of him.

“You couldn’t take care of a plant,” Gil returned.

“I never _wanted_ a plant.” Malcolm stomped his foot on the sidewalk when it was clear he wasn’t going to win at taking Gil’s phone. “You don’t buy plants as gifts.”

“That’s pets.”

“Don’t bring them to me. _Ever again_ ,” Malcolm stood his ground.

Gil put the spider plant into his car. “You’ve gotta update your trigger list, kid.”

“Sadly.” Malcolm scratched his forehead.

“Say goodbye to Syd,” Gil teased, gesturing at the plant in the backseat.

Malcolm flipped him the bird and turned around to go back inside.

“Thanks for the dinner entertainment,” Gil called, his laugher carrying him all the way to the driver's seat.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
